Taking The Blame
by One Wing In The Fire
Summary: What would have happened if Dallas didn't know about the church in Windrixvile? It's obvious that he won't let the fuzz catch Johnny and Ponyboy, but how far will he go to protect them?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey y'all, I didnt drop off the face of the Earth! This idea randomly came ta me and I decided ta see where it leads.** **Disclaimer: The one and only S. E Hinton owns the Outsiders, not me.**

"Okay, kids, whatta ya need me for?" Dallas curiously runs his gaze over Ponyboy and Johnny, wondering what had happened and why they came to him instead of Darry.

Johnny speaks so fast that his words tumble over one another, "Socs jumped me and Pony, said they were gonna teach us a lesson for pickin' up their girls, and they tried to drown Pony, so I stabbed one... I killed a soc."

 _Johnny, little Johnny Cade who wouldn't hurt a fly, **killed** someone?_

Dally grins, trying to hide his confusion and disbelief, "Good for you." Johnny flinches.

 _Why did I say that?_

Johnny wraps up his tale with, "We figured you could get us out if anyone could. I'm sorry we got you away from the party."

"Oh, shoot, kid" - Dally looks away, pretending that something over his shoulder caught his attention as an unwanted mental image of Johnny behind bars flashes through his mind - "I was in the bedroom."

He looks at Pony, "Glory, but your ears can get red, Ponyboy." Dallas bites back laughter, "It wasn't anything like that, kid. I was asleep, or tryin' to be, with all this racket." He looks closely at Pony. "Ponyboy, are you wet?"

"Y-y-yes-s."

Dallas curses and pulls Pony and Johnny into the house. "You'll die of pneumonia 'fore the cops ever get you."

He half-drags Ponyboy to the bedroom he's been claiming for the past few days, Johnny follows. Dallas closes the door behind them.

"Get that sweat shirt off," Dallas throws a towel at him, "and dry off."

Johnny sits down on the bed and watches Dally nervously as he starts digging through his dresser. Dallas grabs a shirt out of a drawer and hands it to Pony. Ponyboy quickly puts the shirt on.

Dallas sighs, "Okay, lets see what I can do about this mess."

He lights a cigarette as he thinks.

 _I can't let them get caught... **them**... That's it!_

"Johnny, you still got the blade?"

"Yea."

"Give it here."

Johnny hands him the knife without question. Dallas puts it in his pocket, "Alright, now listen up and listen good." Ponyboy and Johnny look at him expectantly. "I want you to go home now. Don't tell anyone, _anyone_ , what happened tonight. _No one_. Got it? I'll take care of the rest."

They both nod then stand up to leave. Dally stops them at the door, "And don't go anywhere near the park." He finally lets them go.

After Pony and Johnny leave, heads downstairs to find Buck. He finds him by the bar, "I need to borrow the T-Bird."

Buck grins like an idiot, "Goin' to pick up Sylvia?"

"Yea, sure."

Buck hands him the keys, "Have fun."

Dallas takes the keys and heads out to the old, beat up car. He starts it and speeds towards the park, breaking several traffic laws.

 _For Johnny, Im doin' this for Johnny!_

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey y'all! Welcome to chapter 2 of, drum roll please, Taking The Blame!**

 **Thanks to all of my readers, I'm glad ur enjoyin' the story!**

 **Now, without further ado...**

Dallas surveys the scene in front of him. Torn up dirt and grass, empty booze bottles and one soc.

 _Correction, one very dead soc._

Dally removes his right middle and pointer finger from the soc's neck after his search for a pulse comes up negative.

 _Johnny actually did it._

Dallas ignores the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He stands up, choosing not to acknowledge the blood on his jeans, and looks down at the body. The stab wound in the soc's back is still slowly seeping blood, the thick liquid mixes with the dark pool under the body. The blood spreads out on both sides of the corpse in a ragged pattern, looking like some sick, twisted form of angel wings.

Dally notices a thin, unsteady trail of crimson leading from the body to the fountain. The fountain is still merrily going, as if it's completely oblivious The fact that someone was mudered.

 _No, not murdered, it was self-defense. Ha, the fuzz sure aint gonna see it that way, that's why I'm doing this._

Upon closer inspection, Dallas sees that the water is tinted pink.

 _So Johnny stabbed the soc while he was trying to drown Pony. Makes sense._

He sighs and pulls Johnny's switchblade out of his pocket. There's a few spots of dried blood on the blade.

 _What am I doin'?_

 _Protecting Johnny, duh!_

 _Why? I'm Dallas Winston, I don't care 'bout no one._

 _Uh huh, keep tellin' yourself that. Maybe you'll actually believe it._

"Great, now I'm talkin' to myself," Dally mumbles. He sits down on the edge of the fountain and sets the knife down beside him. Then he lights a Kool and waits for the opportunity to launch his plan.

He doesn't have to wait long. After barely 10 minutes Dally hears a fearful gasp from behind him. He jumps up, puts out his cigarette and grabs his -Johnny's- switch in one fluid motion then spins around to see who spotted him. There's a brunette frozen at the edge of the park.

Dallas smirks as dangerously as he can manage. The girl screams and takes off running. Dally quickly follows her.

He manages to catch up to her about a block away from the park. He pins her up against a wall, causing her to scream again. He covers her mouth with his hand. "Shut up!" He locks eyes with her, his cold and blazing with 'anger' (uncertainty), hers wide and wild with fear.

"You saw what I did?"

The girl nods, too scared not to answer.

"You aint gonna tell anyone, right?"

She shakes her head.

"Good."

 _She's gonna call the fuzz._

Dallas releases her. She immediately runs away. He heads in the other direction (to Buck's), deliberately leaving the T-Bird at the park.

 _I'm doin' this for Johnny... and Pony... and the others. This is for the gang._

-Phone Line-

 _Rrrrring_

 _Rrrring_

 _Rrring_

\- "911, what's your emergency?"

\- "I was walkin' home and... there was a guy. And he had a knife."

\- "Are you okay? Did he hurt you in any way?"

\- "No, no. I'm fine"

\- "Alright, please continue."

\- "He k-killed someone."

\- "Are you sure?"

\- "Yes I'm sure! I know what I saw!"

\- "Calm down, take a deep breath then tell me what happened."

- _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale._ "I was walkin' home and as I started to pass the park I saw a guy smokin' a cigarette."

\- "The guy with the knife?"

\- "Yea, there was a body on the ground behind him. He must of heard me because he turned around. I ran and he chased me. He quickly caught up to me and pinned me to a wall. He asked if I was gonna tel anyone that he murdered someone. I said no and he let me go. Then I ran home and called you."

\- "What did he look like?"

\- "He was about 5' 7" and has really blonde hair, it was almost white. And he had blue eyes."

\- "What was he wearing?"

\- "A white t-shirt, jeans, and a brown leather jacket. Oh yea, and he was wearin' some sort of necklace."

\- "Okay, we're on our way."

-On the way to the Curtis house-

"What do we do now?"

Johnny looks at Pony, "Dally told us to go home."

"What good is that gonna do?"

"I donno, but Dally knows what he's doin'."

"I sure hope so... Did he seem a bit off to you?"

"Yea. Man, I thought I was imagin' it. He seemed distracted."

They enter the Curtis house and Pony is immediately caught in a crushing hug. Darry's nearly in tears, "I didn't mean it Ponyboy! I'm so, so sorry!"

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **FrankElza**

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 **LazyVampire98**

 **nataliaivette1**

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey y'all! Happy Thanksgiving!** **I'm sorry to say that this chapter is kinda short but chapter 4 (which will be posted Saturday) will be much longer.**

Tick,

Tick,

Tick.

Dark eyes glance over at the clock.

4:02 a.m.

Tick,

Tick,

4:03 a.m.

"Do you think the fuzz have found the soc yet?" Johnny looks at his friend, "I don't know Pony."

"What do you think Dally's planning?"

"I don't know Pony."

"Why didn't he want us to tell the other what happened?"

"I don't know Pony."

"We should've at least told Darry, that why he could keep Dal from doin' anythin' stupid, right?"

"I don't know, alright man, I don't know!" Johnny feels kinda bad for snappin' at his friend but he just couldn't help it. Neither of them had gotten much sleep and a bit irritable. But seriously, can you blame him? Johnny had just _killed_ someone. A livin', breathin person! Or who _had been_ a livin', breathin' person.

Johnny sighs, "I'm sorry Pony."

"It's alright. Ugh, this suspense is killin' me... uh, probably not the best choice of words."

"I know what you mean, its _buggin'_ me too."

Suddenly someone knocks loudly the door.

"D-do you think that's Dally?"

"No, he never knocks. Go get your brother."

Pony quickly gets up and runs to Darry's room. Darry comes out of his room, pullin' on a t-shirt as he crosses the living-room. Pony sits back down beside Johnny. Darry opens the door, revealin' two cops on the porch. Both Johnny and Pony pale.

"Can I help you officers?"

"We're looking for Dallas Winston."

"May I ask why?"

"We have evidence connecting him to a murder nearby," Johnny's eyes widen slightly in fear. "You don't happen to know anything about that, do you?"

"No sir and Dallas isn't here."

"Then you don't mind if we search the premise?"

Darry opens the door wider and steps to the side, "Go ahead."

The cops check every room in the house, not even attemptin' to be quiet about it, yet somehow they manage not to wake up Soda.

One of them stops to talk to Darry before they leave, "Thanks for your cooperation. If you get any information on the whereabouts of Mr. Winston please call the station."

 **...Aaannndd that's chapter 3. Now in the spirt of Thanksgiving, I have a question for y'all.**

 **I'm thankful for my wonderful friends and family (for supportin' me in whatever I do), and for fanfiction (for givin' us all a place to express ourselves and share our ideas).**

 **What are you thankful for? Leave ur answer with ur review**

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **Laybay**

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 **Thank u guys so much!**

 **Stay Gold**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Hey y'all, sorry 'bout not havin' this chapter up yesterday.**

 **Now, without further ado...**

Dallas stares up at the ceiling in his room at Buck's, tryin' not to think of what's to come. He left enough 'evidence' behind at the park for the fuzz to think that he's the murderer.

 _It wasn't murder!_

Dally sighs and rolls over onto his side. His eyes scan the small room, taking in every detail. The way the old towel that he uses as a curtain is pulled down over the only window, blocking the moonlight from reaching the room. The old dresser in the corner that's currently holding his meager possessions. Some of his dirty clothes thrown haphazardly across the room because he was too lazy to pick them up. His leather jacket hanging off the door knob.

Dally had left the door opened just a crack. A thin shaft of light comes in from the hallway, accompanied some Hank Williams song that Buck's blasting downstairs.

Dallas frowns as sadness sweeps over him. This might be the last time he ever sees this place, the last time he ever has to deal with Buck's terrible taste in music.

He pushes himself off of the bed and stumbles over to the dresser. He rumages through the top drawer until he finds a small framed picture. Dallas brings it into the light and smiles slightly.

Mrs. Curtis had given it to him after he had managed to stay out of trouble for a week. He still remembers when it was taken. Mrs. C had bribed the boys into taking the picture with homemade chocolate cake. It worked surprisingly well, but then again, Mrs. Curtis's chocolate cake was to die for.

Dally's only 15 in the picture. He had managed to catch 14-year-old Johnny in a headlock just as Mrs. C took the picture. The photo actually came out pretty good. The gang are all smiling, they didn't have a care in the world.

 _It shoulda stayed that way._

Darry shouldn't have had to give up on his dreams of football and college and be forced to work like a dog to keep what's left of his family together. Sodapop shouldn't have dropped out of school to help Darry keep up with the bills. Ponyboy shouldn't be haunted by unknown demons every night.

And then there's the others. Two-Bit, hiding any pain behind that grin of his and some witty remark. Steve, starting to lose faith that there's any good in the world. And Johnny, poor little Johnnycake, gettin' beat by his ol' man three day out of the week and being jumped by some stuck-up, over-privileged soc on the other days.

 ** _That's_** _why I'm doin' this. It wouldn't be fair for the state to tear apart the Curtis brothers because Pony was an 'accomplice'. And it wouldn't be fair for Johnny to be sentenced to the electric chair for defending his friend._

A loud banging downstairs drags Dallas out of his thoughts. He takes the photo out of the frame. He grabs a pen and quickly writes something on the back of the picture.

Dally can now hear someone running up the stairs, towards his room. He carefully puts the picture back in the frame and places it in the top drawer of the dresser.

Dallas turns around just as his bedroom door is thrown open. He leans against his dresser and smirks, "Hello Officer McCarthy."

 **A special thanks goes to:**

 **Lovetoread75**

 **woottonshelby13**

 **Unknown identity**

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey y'all. Im so sorry that I haven't updated for a while.** **Also, this chapter is kinda short. Enjoy :)**

 ** _*There is cussing in this chapter*_**

 **Now, without further ado...**

Next thing he knows, Dallas is face down on the ground and Officer McCarthy is cuffing his wrists behind him while listing of his rights. "You have the right to remain-"

Dally interupts him, "silent. Everything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law. You've told me all this before."

"Cut it out Winston, this ain't a joke."

"Your right. If it were a joke it'd be funny, like your sad little life."

"Shut up."

"Naw, don't think I will."

McCarthy drags Dallas to his feet then punches him in the face. "What the hell?!" The cop strikes again, this time nailing him in the stomach. Dallas doubles over. "Damn McCarthy, you can really pack a punch."

"It's Officer McCarthy to you."

McCarthy once again socks him in the face.

"Ain't this illegal."

"Using force because the criminal refuses to listen to orders? No, no it's not."

"Criminal? How dare you Officer McCarthy, I thought all suspects were... Uh, what's the phrase I'm lookin' for? Oh yea, innocent until proven guilty."

"Lemme guess, you're just young and innocent aren't you?" Dallas smirks, "That's right."

"If you think this is bad, just wait til the interrogation guys get a hold of you." Dallas rolls his eyes, "Oooh, I'm so scared."

"You should be. If the judge finds you guilty, you're going straight to the electric chair."

"Wait, what?!"

Officer McCarthy chuckles, "Oops, guess I forgot to mention. Dallas Winston, your under arrest for the murder of Robert Sheldon."

"I ain't murdered no one!"

"Tell that to the judge."

"Fuck that! Come on McCa- I mean Officer McCarthy, you know I wouldn't muder someone!"

"Don't be too sure about that, we have a witness."

"Ha! A witness? Hard for someone ta witness me murderin' someone when I was here all night."

"Uh huh, sure Winston."

Another cop walks into the room, "You need help?"

"I've got him."

"You've _got_ the wrong guy!"

McCarthy ignores Dallas and drags him out to the waiting cop car.

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **liveurdamlifepony**

 **Unknown identity (Guest)**

 **woottonshelby13**

 **Lovetoread75**

 **OceanBlueSeaEyes**

 **lilramona**

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	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey y'all, happy new year! So, I decided to give u guys a look at what's goin on at the Curtis house.**

 **Also, I have a request; can u guys give me a bit of constructive criticism with ur reviews?**

 **Now, without further ado...**

-The Curtis House-

Darry is sitting in his recliner, wondering what Dallas has gotten himself into this time. The cops had said somthing about a murder but there's no way Dally would murder someone. Right?

The sun is peeking over the horizon and casting shadows onto the livingroom floor. After the cops left, Darry had shooed Pony to bed and let Johnny sleep in his bed, meaning the livingroom is empty except for him. It's almost peaceful. Almost.

The front door slams and Two-Bit loudly announces his presence. "Honey, I'm home!" The door opens again as Steve enters, grumbling about the door being slamed in his face.

Darry glares at them, "How many times do I have to tell you guys not to slam the door?" Two-Bit answers him with a question of his own, "Donno, how many times have you told us?"

"A million."

"Well, obviously more than a million," Steve says dryly as he sits on the couch.

Two-Bit plops down in front of the tv and turns it on then starts skimming through the channels, looking for Mickey Mouse.

Talk show, blah, blah, blah, reality show, blah, blah, blah, news, blah, bl-

"Wait, turn it back to the news."

"But Darry, I wanna watch Mickey!"

"Two-Bit!"

"Fiiiiine."

Two-Bit puts the news on.

The words, 'Breaking News', flash across the screan then fade away to show a news reporter standing at the edge of the park. There's yellow crime scene tape outlining the park behind her. She waits a second before she begins speaking;

"Last night at approximately 2:46 a.m., police responded to a 911 call concerning a murder at the east side park. When investigators arrived at the scene they found the body of 17 year old Robert Sheldon. The only evidence of the identity Robert's assailant was the description from the witness who called the police. She had described him as a white adolescent male with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes.

At the moment the police have taken 17 year old Dallas Winston into custody, believing that he is possibly the killer. If you have any information regarding the murder, please call the Tulsa Police Department. We will keep you updated on this story as we get more details. For channel 5 news, this is Brittany Maloney, reporting out."

The screen fades to black after Steve gets up and turns off the tv. Two-Bit stares at the blank screen in shock, "They picked Dal up... for murder?"

Darry looks at him, "Yea. The fuzz came by a couple hours ago, askin' if I'd seen him."

"I can't believe they found him though!"

Two-Bit seems confused, "What do ya mean Steve?"

"I mean if Dallas had killed the soc, and I'm not sayin' he did, he would've taken off already. The fuzz would've never had the chance to find him. And I find it hard to believe that someone caught him in the act, he's one sneaky son of bitch and we all know it. No one would have seen him unless he wanted them to, right?" Steve looks just about as confused as Two-Bit.

Darry thinks over what Steve said. It makes sense. Alot of sense. He has some of his own ideas that fit in with Steve's, but for now he keeps them to himself. Except for one, "Maybe his luck just finally ran out."

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **Pi (Guest)**

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 **lilramona**

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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey y'all, I'm back! This chapter is much longer than my previous ones. Before I get to the story, I want to thank my new beta reader, CarolynneRuth. *enthusiastic applause***

 **Now, without further ado...**

Everything's grey. The floor, the walls, the ceiling. All grey. Even the table in front of him. Grey. There's an incessant ticking from some unseen clock that echoes through the room.

Tick, tick, tick...

They're trying to get to him. Trying to make him uncomfortable. He knows that. They think that he'll just spill his his guts, if they wait long enough.

He yawns and puts his feet up on the table, allowing his chair to lean back on two legs. Then he pulls lightly against the cuffs that bind him to the chair.

Officer McCarthy had brought him into the interrogation room almost an hour ago. Or he thinks it's been an hour. Maybe it's been longer. Or shorter. He can't tell. That stupid clock ain't helping much.

Finally, the only door in the room springs open. Three people enter the room: the interrogator and two cops. The cops lean against the wall on either side of the door. The interrogator sits down at the table, across from him.

"Good morning, Mr. Winston. Did you sleep well?"

Dallas rolls his eyes, "Yea, I slept great. I mean, it's not like I was dragged out of my room at 3 o'clock in the mornin'."

"Good." The interrogator smiles at him, his tone is over-friendly. He slowly tears the cellophane off a pack of cigarettes in his hand before holding them out towards Dallas, "Would you like one?"

"What brand?"

"Camel."

"Hell no."

"Alright then," He lights one for himself then puts the rest in his pocket, "I'm assuming you know why you're here?"

 _Don't say too much_.

"McCarthy said somethin' 'bout a murder."

"That's right, Robert Sheldon. Did you know him?"

"Nope." A bang resonates around the room as Dallas removes his feet from the table, dropping his chair back onto all four legs, "What's this got to do with me?"

The interrogator's voice is flat and monotone when he speaks next, "At the moment, Mr. Winston, you are the only suspect in this case.

Dallas laughs, "Your kidding, right?"

"I'm afraid not. Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and your going to answer _truthfully_. Understand?"

 _Truthfully? Ha!_

Dallas shrugs, "Sure."

"Where were you between the hours of 2 and 3 o'clock this morning?"

"At Buck's."

 _Pony and Johnny showed up there at about 2:30._

"You were there the whole time?"

 _No, I left at around 2:35_.

"Yea."

"What were you doing?"

 _Tryin' to sleep, my ribs were hurting... Now that I think about it, they still hurt._

"Well, he was havin' this party and I was hopin' to get lucky with some broad I met."

"So you were with a girl?"

"Yea."

"What was her name?"

"Sylvia."

"Does she have a last name?"

"Peterson."

"Tell me about her."

"She's got her hair dyed a darkish blonde, has brown eyes and she's got curves in all the right places. She's also a fuckin' slut, always hangin' onto a different guy every night. We have a kinda on again, off again relationship."

"So you were no where near the east side park, correct?"

 _I was there, just not 'til after the murder - I mean self-defense...thing. Yea, that makes sense._

"Correct."

"Did you know about the murder before I told you?"

 _Yea._

"No."

The interrogator leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, "Okay, just to recap, you were at Buck's because you were hoping to get laid with Sylvia Peterson, who is your on and off girlfriend?"

 _Seems like an okay alibi._

"That's right."

"Well Mr. Winston, that leaves just one problem."

 _Problem?_

"What's that?"

"I don't believe you."

Suddenly, the smaller of the two cops is behind Dallas. The cop grabs ahold of his shoulders to restrict his movement. The other cop moves to stand right in front of Dally and grins at him.

 _Shit._

The interrogator grinds his cigarette out on the table then walks over to stand next to the bigger cop, "I'm going to give you another chance. Where were you between the hours of 2 and 3?"

"I already told you, I was at Buck's."

"And you were there the whole time?"

"Yes." The interrogator nods once as a signal. The biggest cop slams his fist into Dallas's cheek. Dally's head snaps to the side from the force of the impact. Dallas glares daggers at both the cop and the interrogator.

"Try again, Mr. Winston."

"I was at Buck's the whole fuckin' time!"

"Wrong again."

The cop strikes again, hitting Dallas in his stomach and chest. The cop behind Dally keeps him from doubling over and the cuffs on his wrists keep him from fighting back.

"Let's try a different question; What were you doing while you were supposedly at Buck's?"

"Hangin' out with Sylvia."

The interrogator signals to the cop again. It takes longer for the blows to stop this time and by the time they do, Dally's breathing has been reduced to smothered gasps. The cop had unknowingly jabbed his cracked ribs.

 _Fuck, now my ribs_ _ **really**_ _hurt._

The interrogator grabs ahold of his chin and forces Dallas to look at him. "I know your lying. I talked to Buck Merrill before I came in here. According to him, you asked to borrow his car so you can go pick Sylvia up and left his place at about 2:30 in the morning. What do you have to say to that?"

 _He talked to Buck? Damn it, he was drunk as hell, of course he told them the truth. Probably couldn't think of a lie... Or didn't care. Eh, can't change that now._

"He's lying."

The interrogator laughs in his face then releases him. He turns to the cops, "I'm done with him." The interrogator exits, leaving Dallas alone with the cops.

The bigger cop uncuffs Dally's wrists from the chair then proceeds to cuff his hands behind his back. The cop grabs his arm and drags Dallas to his feet.

"I've got him from here."

The smaller cop leaves. The other cop leads Dallas out of the room and down the hall, towards the holding cells.

"You must really like this place."

Dallas, for once, doesn't respond. The cop just continues talking, "You know, I always knew that one day you wouldn't be leaving this place. I never took you as the murdering type though." He shrugs.

Finally, they reach the third cell of the right. His cell. His second home. His first if you don't count the Curtis house.

The cop releases him into the cell. "See ya around Winston." Then he's gone, leaving Dallas by himself.

Dallas walks over to the lone sink and rinses his face with cold water. He sighs then looks into the mirror to examine the damage done to him. Angry red marks cover the left side of his face, already starting to swell.

He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it to the side. Similar marks cover his slim torso, along with deep purple bruises covering his ribs.

 _Is it even worth it?_

Dallas stares at the marks, feels the pain, and imagines Johnny in his current position. The idea makes him feel sick. He drops his head, breaking eye contact with his reflection. There's no way he would ever let Johnny end up here. Especially when there's something he can do to prevent it.

 _It's worth it. It's_ _ **definitely**_ _worth it._

* * *

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **CarolynneRuth**

 **liramona**

 **Unknown identity 90**

 **Lovetoread75**

 **Pi**

 **woottonshelby13**

 **Please Review**

 **Stay Gold**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey y'all! I'm back! I'm so sorry 'bout not updatin' for so long. I'm not gonna bore u guys with excuses.**

 **Thanks to CarolynneRuth for beta reading this chapter!**

 **Now, without further ado…**

Johnny stares blankly at the ceiling above him, thinking about the cops. Why were they looking for Dally? He didn't kill anyone. But then again, he _Dallas Winston_. He gets hauled in for anything that happens in their turf. And the witness from the news report Darry told him about? She's wrong. She must of seen someone who found the body and just said it was Dal.

Yesterday, not much happened after Darry, Steve and Two-Bit saw the news report. They argued for a bit about the possibility of Dally being seen killing someone. Johnny had walked into the living room as Darry mentioned that Dally might have run out of luck. Everyone got real quiet once they realized Johnny was there. Darry gently told him about the report and Johnny told Pony when he woke up. The rest of the day was spent playing poker and trying not to think about the murder. No one suggested watching tv.

Now, Johnny's stretched out on the couch, his eyes locked on the ceiling and his mind crowded with thoughts. Darry left for work about half an hour ago and Soda's currently in the kitchen, making purple scrambled eggs to go with the blue chocolate cake he's baking.

Pony wonders into the living room, "Mornin' Johnny."

"Mornin'," He sits up. Soda pokes his head out of the kitchen, "Hey Pone, could you grab the newspaper?"

"Sure." Ponyboy yawns then heads outside. He checks the mail then grabs the newspaper from the driveway. He's about to go back inside when a headline catches his eye.

Pony rushes inside, "Johnny, look at this!" He plops downs on the couch next to Johnny shows him the article.

 _Wealthy Teen Killed by Juvenile Delinquent_

 _October 17, 1965_

 _Early Saturday morning, a teenage girl was walking home from a friend's house when she stumbled across a horrific scene at the east park. An unidentifiable figure was crouched over the body of 17 year old Robert Sheldon, who had be brutally stabbed to death. The figure realized he was being watched and chased the girl when she tried to escape. According to the girl, who wishes to remain anonymous, he "pinned me against a wall and told me not to tell anyone. I, being scared out of my mind, lied and said that I wouldn't. Of course, I went straight home to call the cops."_

 _While the suspect was talking to her, she got a good look at him. She gave the description to the police and they arrested 17 year old Dallas Winston. Dallas's criminal record, which includes assault, public brawling, gang related activities and much more, lead the police to believe that he may be the murderer. Dallas had a sliver 6 inch switchblade in his possession at the time of his arrest. The police have yet to figure out a motive._

 _If you have any information about this murder, you are encouraged to call the police or silent witness immediately._

Johnny stares at the article for a bit before speaking, "We need to call the fuzz." Pony looks at his friend fearfully, "What? Why?"

"He didn't do it." Johnny states simply.

"I know but he'll be okay."

Johnny looks at Pony accusingly, "We don't know that."

"Your right, we don't but I know you don't want to go to prison and Dally clearly doesn't want you to either." Pony says pointedly.

Johnny voice increases in volume as he speaks, "What about Dal, huh? You think he should spend his life in prison or worse? What if he gets sentenced to the chair?"

"And if you turn yourself in, you get sent to prison, or worse, me and Soda get taken away from Darry and what do you think Dally will do?" Ponyboy raises his voice to match Johnny's.

Soda walks into the living room , "What're y'all arguin' about?"

Johnny and Pony both turn to face him and Pony yells "Nothin'!". Soda looks back and forth between the two. Ponyboy sighs and apologizes.

Johnny stands up and heads towards the front door.

"Where are ya goin' Johnnycake?"

"To see Dally." He lets the door slam behind him.

* * *

Johnny walks silently up to the front desk of the station, ignoring the suspicious glance from the officer behind it.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Dallas Winston."

The cops laughs. Johnny glares at him, "I ain't kidding!"

"Calm down kid, you can see him."

The cop leads Johnny to a room, "Wait here." The cop leaves. Johnny sits down at the only table, facing the door.

The cop comes back about 15 minutes later with an irritated Dallas in tow. The cop forces him into the chair across from Johnny, cuffs his wrist to the arm of the chair then moves to stand by the door. The first thing Johnny notices are the bruises that cover his friend's face and the way he subconsciously favors his right side. Johnny remembers him mentioning that Tim Shepard cracked his ribs. The state issued uniform he's wearing hangs loosely off his thin frame, revealing some bruises creeping from his shoulders and slightly up his neck. The only personal item the cops let him keep is his St. Christopher. The chain peeks out from under the uniform shirt, where the pendent is hidden.

"Hey kid."

Johnny stares at him silently.

"How's it goin'?"

He remains silent. Dally leans back in his chair, "You gonna say somethin' or should I tell the guard to take me back to my cell?"

Johnny sighs, "Why'd ya do it?"

Dallas quickly leans forward and lowers his voice, "Don't say _anythin'_ about the murder alright, I got it all under control." His words are so quick and so quiet that Johnny almost doesn't understand him. As he finishes speaking, the cop grabs his shoulders and drags him back a few inches. The cop leans over and whispers a warning in his ear. Johnny notices that Dally grits his teeth slightly when the cop grabs his shoulders.

The cop lets him go and heads back to his place beside the door.

"You alright Dal?"

"Yea, I'm fine. The bastards have a sick way of interrogating people."

Johnny's eyes widen, "The fuzz did that to you?"

Dally laughs softly, "They sure did."

"Why didn't you fight back?"

Dallas pulls lightly against the cuffs around his wrist, "They had me cuffed, I was outnumbered and one was holdin' me back."

"That's what the bruises on your shoulders are from?"

Dally quickly hides his surprise, "Yea, that's what they're from."

The cop clears his throat, "Time's up!"

"What?! That wasn't even 5 minutes!"

"Shut it _murderer_. You're lucky that you were allowed to have a visitor." He uncuffs Dallas and leads him out of the room, Johnny follows them out into the hallway. Dallas tries to hide the fact that being called a murderer bugs him but Johnny can see it in his eyes.

"See ya later Johnnycakes." The cop drags him down the hall, back to his cell.

Johnny begins his walk back to the Curtis house, feeling frustrated and upset. Dally's taking the fall for him. But why? Big bad Dallas Winston doesn't give a shit about anyone… at least that what he says. It's not the first time he's done something like this though. He let the cops believe that he broke the windows at the high school and it was Two-Bit who did that. But that wasn't that big a deal, all he got was a week in the cooler and a fine that he still hasn't paid.

This is different though. Way different. This is a life or death situation. Not that either option is good. Life means life in prison. Death means… well, death. By the electric chair. And there's nothing Johnny can do.

* * *

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **woottonshelby13**

 **CarolynneRuth**

 **Unknown identity 90**

 **Lovetoread75**

 **Pi**

 **Please Review**

 **Stay Gold**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N; Hey y'all, welcome to chapter 9 of Taking The Blame! First off, I would like to thank my beta reader, the amazing CarolynneRuth! Also, just to be clear, the character descriptions are based off the book, not the movie. For example, Dallas has white-blonde hair and ice blue eyes.**

 **Now, without further ado...**

Johnny lets the door slam behind him, leaving Ponyboy and Sodapop in the silent living room. Soda sits down on the couch beside his younger brother. He clears his throat awkwardly before breaking the silence, "What was that about Pone?"

"Nuthin, I promise."

Soda notices the newspaper, which is now sitting on the coffee table. He picks it up and scans the headlines then lets out a deep sigh. "This is about the murder." Soda says the sentence as simply as if he was asking how school was today. Pony doesn't try to deny it, "Yea."

"Johnny's takin' it pretty hard ain't he?"

"Yea."

"How do you feel about it?"

Pony looks at his brother and licks his lips nervously, "I'm not sure. I don't think he did it."

Soda looks surprised, "Why?"

"It just… it just doesn't seem like somethin' he would do."

"You don't think he would jump a soc and, maybe, accidentally kill him?"

"No, of course not!" Pony stares at his brother, "You don't think that, do you?"

Soda shrugs, "Maybe. Why shouldn't I? Everyone knows that Dally hates socs."

"But he wouldn't kill one! Even if he did jump the soc, Dal wouldn't use his blade unless one was pulled on him first. And Bob wasn't armed!"

Soda looks at his suspiciously, "How do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"That the soc wasn't armed."

"I, uh," Pony bites his lip, "I saw it in the newspaper."

Soda knows that he's lying, he just read the paper himself a little bit ago. That's what started this conversation. Pony knows something, Soda's sure of it. Soda clears his throat, "I hate to tell you this but I don't think Dally can hope for much better than life in prison. From what I've heard, all the evidence points straight to him. Everything's against him at this point." Soda watches Pony closely as he speaks. He catches Pony biting his nails, an old nervous habit of his.

"Is there any other reason you don't think he did it?"

"Yes! I mean no, I…" Pony quickly gets up and rushes to his room.

* * *

Dallas lied. He lied straight to Johnny's face.

" _I got it all under control."_

Ha! He wishes. Wishes he had thought this through just a little more. He's still a few steps ahead of the fuzz, metaphorically speaking. He planted evidence. Johnny's switch. The T-Bird. Buck's story. The small tells he displayed while giving his alibi.

And then he just had to fuck up. When Johnny asked why he did it, he should have just denied everything, acted like he had no idea what he was talking about. Or even just given some dumb excuse for murdering the damn soc. He shouldn't have freaked out like he did. Hopefully the cop doesn't think too much of it.

He should have known that Johnny would come to see him, jeopardizing this whole cover up. And he didn't think about the possibility of Johnny turning himself in before. Now it's all he can think about.

Johnny can't be caught. He just can't. Prison would ruin him, if he isn't sentenced to the chair. The chair. Dallas hadn't really thought of that possibility before either. The possibility that his life may end with him strapped to a chair, electricity shooting through him, causing his skin to burn, his blood to boil and ultimately stopping his heart. All for a crime he didn't commit.

Ironic. He always knew he'd die like this. Some petty crime was always going to be his downfall. But he always thought he'd go down for something he did. Not for something someone else did.

 _So much for not givin' a shit about anyone else._

* * *

Johnny decided against going to the Curtis house, opting to go to the lot instead. He doesn't want to explain his previous behavior towards Soda. And he has too much on his mind. He stretches out in the middle of the lot.

Johnny has no idea what to do. He's terrified of the fuzz, always has been, but he can't just let Dallas take the fall for him. If he turns himself in, he could end up in prison or being sent to the electric chair. If he doesn't then Dallas faces that fate.

"What're ya doin' out 'ere, grease?"

Johnny quickly sit up, his eyes widening and his skin instantly becomes two shades paler. Someone drops onto the ground beside him and throws their arm across his shoulders, "Calm down Johnnycake, it's just me." Johnny looks over to see the one and only Two-Bit Mathews grinning back at him.

Johnny relaxes, "Golly Two-Bit, are you tryin' to give me a heart attack?!"

"'Course not."

"Well you're succeedin'."

Two-Bit rolls his eyes and lays back in the grass, "You never answered my question."

"Question?"

"What're doin' out 'ere?"

"Just thinkin'."

"Thinkin'? You're always thinkin'. If ya think much more you'll turn into Ponyboy… What're thinkin' 'bout?"

Johnny debates whether or not to tell him. Two-Bit sighs and answers for him, "Dallas."

A long silence falls between them. Johnny is the first to speak, "Hey Two-Bit?"

"Yea Johnnycake?"

"Can I tell ya somethin'?"

"Sure buddy, anythin'."

"You won't tell no one?"

"Not a soul"

"Promise?"

Two-Bit glances at him curiously, "Johnny, what's this about?"

Johnny just repeats his previous question, " _Promise_?"

Two-Bit's curiosity gets the best of him, "I promise. My lips are sealed." He zips his lips, locks them and tosses an imaginary key into the distance.

Most people wouldn't tell _Two-Bit Mathews_ anything this serious if he was the last person on Earth, but Johnny knows better. Underneath the wisecracks and the Mickey Mouse t-shirt, Two-Bit is one of the most loyal and most trustworthy people you could ever meet.

So Johnny takes a deep breath and speaks softly, "Dally didn't kill that soc, I did."

Two-Bit stares at him, dumbfounded, "W-what?"

Johnny tells him everything, starting from when he and Pony fell asleep at the lot, to Darry hitting Ponyboy, to how upset Pony was and they had decided to go to the park so he could cool off, to when the socs arrived.

Johnny is shaking from head to toe by this time. "I-I didn't mean to kill him … but … they were drowning Pony... I had to do somethin'."

Two-Bit looks stunned. "Holy shit," is all he murmurs in shock.

It is shit alright, Johnny thinks with a sick feeling in his stomach, but telling Two-Bit offers him a little relief. This is too big a deal for him and Pony to handle on their own. They need someone a bit older and wiser to help them. And that older, wiser someone just happened to be the 18-year-old junior beside him.

* * *

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **Lovetoread75**

 **woottonshelby13**

 **Unknown identity 90**

 **Sara**

 **lilramona**

 **Megabyte22**

 **My Achilles Heel**

 **Please Review**

 **Stay Gold**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N; Hey y'all! I'm back! Sorry I left y'all waitin' so long. Now real quick 'fore I jump into the story, I wanna take some time to thank my amazing beta, the one, the only, CarolynneRuth!**

 **Now, without further ado…**

"Wakey, wakey Winston." Dallas groans softly, rolling over and pulling the thin pillow over his head in a futile attempt to block out the cop's voice. The cell door squeaks loudly. Dallas is suddenly flipped onto his stomach and has his wrists cuffed behind him once again.

"What the fuck!"

The cops drags him off the small cot and shoves him out of his cell. "I ain't in the mood for your shit Winston."

Dallas forces a sympathetic look on his face, "Did a certain cop not get enough lovin' last night?" The cop shoves him again, sending him into the wall. "Oops." Dallas lets out a long string of curses.

The cop ushers him down the hall, back to a familiar room. "Why're ya bringin' me back ere? I was already interrogated."

"Your attorney's here to see you."

"Attorney? I don't need no damn attorney."

"Oh yea?" The cops laughs, "Are you gonna represent yourself in court then?"

Dallas thinks about it then sighs in resignation, "No."

"That's what I thought."

The cops open the door and leads Dallas to that cursed chair he was cuffed to during his interrogation. The cop forces him into the chair and cuffs him to it. The cop leaves the room, leaving Dallas with the incessant tick of the unseen clock.

Tick, tick, tick…

After half an hour of hearing nothing but the endless tick Dallas jumps up, ignoring the cuffs as they tear at the skin on his wrists and looking for that fucking clock. Then he sits back down and takes a deep breath.

 _This is exactly what they want, they want to push me over the edge. It ain't gonna work though. I ain't gonna give them the pleasure._

Dallas pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to keep himself under control. Cool and calm. He stares blankly at the empty chair across from him.

Finally his attorney enters the room and moves to the chair he's staring at, dropping a notebook on the table. "Good mor-"

Dallas promptly interrupts him, "What the hell took ya so long?! I got better things to do then sit 'round waitin' for you!"

The attorney glares at him, "Like what? Rot in a jail cell?"

Dallas already decides that he doesn't like this guy.

"Now like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted; Good morning Mr. Winston. I'm Gregory Kellum and I'll be defending you in court."

Dallas sizes him up. Gregory is a younger guy, maybe about 26 or 27 years old. Dallas laughs softly.

Gregory frowns. "What are you laughing at?"

"Just my luck, I get stuck with the new guy. This is your first case ain't it?"

"So what if it is? I'm just as qualified as any other attorney you could've gotten. I graduated at the top of my class!"

Dallas smirks mirthlessly, "And you're lackin' experience."

"Shut it. Do you want my help or not?"

"Sure, whatever. I can't hope for much anyway."

Gregory rakes his gaze over the 17-year-old kid in front of him, taking in every bruise, cut and other injuries laced across his thin body, the ones he can see at least. "How'd you get those?"

"Huh?"

"The bruises."

"I was jumped."

"By who?"

 _I sure as hell ain't gonna give the credit to Tim Shepard and I have no proof against the fuzz…_

"Socs."

"What are socs?"

"Rich idiots who think they own Tulsa."

Gregory pulls a pen out of his pocket and scribbles something down in his notebook. "So Robert was a soc?"

"Who?"

"Robert Sheldon."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"The young man you killed."

Dallas jumps up and slams his hands down on the table, dragging the chair forward a few inches by the cuffs, "I didn't kill no one!"

"Calm down, you're gonna hurt yourself."

Dallas drops his head so that he's looking down at the table, his sanity wearing thin…and starts laughing. It starts off quiet then quickly escalates, the cold, bitter sound of it echoing around the room and causing his ribs to protest painfully.

 _This is just a nightmare, an extremely vivid nightmare. I've had 'em before, ain't nuthin' new. Johnny wouldn't_ _kill someone. I'm gonna wake up any minute now, either on the Curtis couch or livin' floor or my room at Buck's and this will all fade into nuthin'…_

"Dallas. Come on kid, sit down."

 _Or maybe this is real… I'm actually doin' this…_

After a second he listens to Gregory and sits back down. It takes a bit longer for his laughter subside and by the time it does his ribs are killing him.

"Are you okay?"

Dallas takes a deep breath, ignoring the question, and looks Gregory square in the eye, "You're wastin' your time 'ere."

"How so?"

"There's too much against me, I've already accepted that and now you need to. It's just a matter of what my punishment will be, prison or death row."

Gregory is a little taken aback by the teen's bluntness and slightly disturbed that he's already given up, "That's not necessarily true."

Dallas rolls his eyes, "Uh huh."

Gregory sighs, "Okay, let's backtrack a little bit. You were jumped, correct?"

"Yea."

"By who?"

"I already told you, socs."

"Yes, but do you have any names?"

"No."

"When and where were you jumped?"

And that's when a new idea hits him, "The east side park, the night everyone thinks I killed the soc."

Gregory starts writing in his notebook again, "Do you have a time range?"

"Between 12 and 1-ish in the mornin'"

"Did they outnumber you?"

"Yea."

"By how many?"

 _I should've asked Johnny for details. Eh, when all else fails, lie your ass off._

"There was like four or five of them, one of me."

Gregory locks eyes with Dallas, "Now I'm only gonna ask you this once; Did you kill Robert Sheldon?"

Dallas wants to laugh at the irony of it all. For once he can actually answer truthfully, "No."

"Did you stab him?"

Dallas takes a deep breath, knowing very well that he's taking a huge risk. He was the whole time, but this… This could shatter any chances of getting off easy. But it could also improve the almost nonexistent chances he has.

Gregory leans forward, "Mr. Winston, did you stab Robert Sheldon?"

And Dallas decides to take that chance, "Yes, I stabbed him."

Gregory continues to write in the notebook, "Tell me everything, start from the very beginning."

 _Here goes nuthin'._

Dallas tells the biggest lie of his life, making it all up as he goes and trying to link his lies with some of the 'evidence' he planted.

* * *

 **A special thanks goes to;**

 **Weaselbee621**

 **Tyrannosaurus Ross**

 **Woottonshelby13**

 **Guest**

 **Lovetoread75**

 **CarolynneRuth**

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